Rain That Never Knew the Sky
by Hamtaro23
Summary: In a moment of sweet, euphoric bliss, she tasted rain on his lips mingled with the salt of her tears. Royai. Oneshot. RR!


Rain That Never Knew the Sky

Well, a bit more depressing than I planned, XD...totally random, Thank Vindicated from the Spider-Man 2 soundtrack for this. Enjoy!

* * *

He was standing exactly in the middle of nowhere, bordered on both sides by nothingness, emptiness, blankness of a dreary countryside in the rain. Muted yellow of the windswept grass, rusted metal of a neglected bus station, silent needles of rain piercing the cloudy ether, he stood exactly in the middle of nowhere. Hopelessly out of place in his navy uniform and black coat, hands perpetually tucked in his pockets, listless eyes stared through the wet tresses of hair at nothing. He wanted to be whisked away by the rain, like water collecting by a sidewalk gutter into the sewers, picked up and carried. He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the rain, feeling each raindrop follow the curves of his jaw down his neck and into the folds of his shirt. He's been standing here for a while, it's a bit difficult to loose yourself. 

---

The tires slid dangerously over the wet asphalt, both windshield wipers swaying furiously from side to side but neither was fast enough to repel the sheets of rain dosing the car. The knocks of each raindrop against the glass sounded like distant gunshots. She could barely see between the wipers and the rivers of water running down her windshield. Her amber eyes apprehensive, eyebrows furrowing in concentration, trying to distinguish between cars and road signs as her gripped tightened on the steering wheel. The speedometer wavered between seventy and seventy five; she pushed down on the pedal and arrow shot past eighty. The tires screeched and raised a thin mist in its wake, reduced to a blur as it plowed through the downpour.

Why was she so concerned?

"Hawkeye," he had said, monotone and stern, "I'm going out for a walk." There was an indistinct look in his eyes, one that worried her slightly, a look of loss, lethargy, surrender and exhaustion, a look of hopelessness that she had only seen once. Once long ago on the desert battlefields, of what is now, a far away memory. Grabbing his coat off the rack, in a flourish donning the black garment, he strode out of the room, footsteps echoing sharply behind him.

Hawkeye, slightly bemused, looked up from her table at the door left half open, and then the window. A flash of lightening streaked across the tepid, gray sky followed by the boom of thunder, dense downpour accompany the duet. Her eyes instinctively looked to the coat rack; both umbrellas were still leaning against the wall. He went out in this weather without an umbrella. What is he doing?

Four hours, fours hours of incessant rain, four hours since he's been gone, four hours of sidelong glances at the door, expecting to see his shadow and hear his voice, four hours of longing for his casual smirk and flippant eyes, four hours of asphyxiating in the silence of the room, four hours. Crushed by the weight of her own worries, her own blender of overflowing emotions, she relented, grabbing the car keys and dashing out into the rain to find him. She had no idea where he was, but she had a feeling.

Why was she so concerned?

---

He felt a bit like dying, might be fun seeing Hughes again. How long has it been? How long has it been since the phone calls stopped? How long has it been since his bespectacled friend last barged into his office? How long has it been?

He hated the cackle of flames that haunted his memories, the smell of burnt flesh, blood and death that seeped between the fabric of his being, lingering and ever present, a reminder of his past. Soaked by the rain, he felt as if he were held together by strings, thing strings liable to snap at any moment, no one to pick up the broken pieces. Shards of a mirror that reflected his own fragility and weakness, his own incompetence and foolish dreams.

The only source of light and purity in his mind came from a small shard, glittering as if struck by a beam of ethereal sunlight. Her smile as she piles stacks of paperwork on his table in the morning, her amused grin when he falls asleep at his desk, her feigned looked of annoyance when he complains, just her. The only thing keeping him intact was the thought of her. An exasperated twist of pain and frivolity tapped his heart, he was just her commanding officer, what was he thinking.

---

The highway dwindled into a rough country road, cutting across a field of tall grass, flat and austere in all directions. She blinked several times, trying to make sense of where she was. Driving at a much slower speed of thirty five miles and hour, she scanned left and right for tell-tale signs of his black hair, his coat, the navy blue of his uniform. The tires crunched over rocks and sputtered in mud. The frame of the vehicle felt like paper as it bounced up and down, assaulted by both the road and rain simultaneously.

She felt a bit silly, a bit desperate and on the verge of tears. What if he went to bar? What if he had a date? What if she drove out here for nothing? It was all so silly. She managed a suppressed chuckle. Why was she so concerned? She didn't want to admit it. It was just a hopeless dream, a conditioning of her current work situation, a momentary phase in passing, nothing of importance. This was a bad time to be in self-denial, she reminded herself as the car hit another bump. The windshield wipers lumbered across her vision and sent droplets of water flying to the side.

There was a crippled bus station up ahead, a faint flicker of a broken light that buzzed on and off from the booth. She sighed glumly as she drove closer; there was no sign of anyone for miles. Pulling the car up next to the bus station, she rested her forehead against the steering wheel. A scoff as she shook her head in disbelief at the rashness of her actions, why was she so concerned? She looked up, left, right and finally acquiesced to the silent, mocking rain that it had been for nothing. Then, from the corner of her eyes she caught a glimpse of his coat and her heart skipped a beat.

---

The car door opened with a jerk and she left it open, running towards his figure in the distant. She felt the rain striking her face, soaking her hair, percolating through her uniform; she wanted to call out his name, embrace him but caught herself and stopped short a few feet away.

He didn't turn to her but felt her presence. It was strange, strange for her to come out here, strange that she'd even know where he was. "Was it just a feeling?" He couldn't help but ask.

"You can call it that, sir" she replied, "just a feeling."

He nodded in response, a sad grin across his lips as he closed his eyes momentarily. Silence encompassed the minute space between the two as they stood in the rain, the soft, steady drizzle falling around them.

Finally, he turned to her, those eyes, pained and delicate bore into her, "You should get back in the car. You'll catch a cold in this rain." He looked past her at the car.

"You should as well, sir," she returned her gaze, amber eyes lost in the dark abyss.

"Don't worry about me, Riza," he concluded grimly with a small twitch, his attempt to smile, "You're wasting your time if you do." And that was the truth. He was a selfish, small man who endangered the lives of his friends and subordinates. Ishballan war hero, State Alchemist, murderer, drowning in the blood of his victim, she didn't deserve to be dragged in after him.

The sound of her name on his tongue startled her, she looked at him and felt on the verge of tears. She wanted to say something, she wanted to say something but it would give her away so easily, her own feelings betraying her at this precarious moment. Lowering her head, watching the dull gold of the grass beneath her feet, she whispered "But," a pause, "but, I do worry."

"Don't." He replied, eyes hidden under his bangs, turning from her, "Don't, Riza. Get in the car and go back, leave me here." He said calmly, and as an afterthought, added, "That's an order." He didn't deserve her, not in the least.

That feeling bubbling up from her stomach, she shuddered in the rain, eyes squeezed shut, trying to hold back the tears but she could feel it rolling down her cheek, warm unlike the rain. "No," she choked, suppressing a sob, shaking her head in a slow, decisive motion, her blonde hair framing her face and shoulders. "No," she repeated, louder and firmer, "I'm not leaving without you."

The words caught him off guard, as if she managed to strip him of all his armor with those simple words. He blinked twice, the rain stinging his eyes for the first time as he looked to her. Her shudders and sobs, her hunched shoulders, clinched fists, soaked in the rain.

"I'm staying right here if you're staying here. Please don't tell me to leave. How can I leave? What am I here for if not to stand by you, if not to support you, if not to help you? Please-" She stopped short as she felt the coolness of his skin, his index finger pressed against her lips. His thumb brushed the water from them and he lifted her face, her wet amber eyes meeting his, now, gentle and warm black irises. The same hand rose to stroke the wet strands of her hair, tucking them behind her ear.

"I'm so sorry, Riza. I'm so selfish." He whispered, the warmth of his breath tingling her cheeks, brushing his lips against hers. Then he slowly pressed them to hers. In a moment of sweet, euphoric bliss, she tasted rain on his lips mingled with the salt of her tears.

He broke from the kiss slowly, savoring the tenderness of her being, watching her from hooded eyes, there was only one word to describe the sight, beautiful. He held onto her, caught her in an embraced, rested his head in the crook of her neck, and for the first time in a while, he felt completely at peace. He felt as if he had the courage, the strength to overcome his past, to change the world, even if she were the only standing by his side. She, the one he loved, was all he needed.

She was at a loss for words, baffled, shocked, perplexed, bewildered even. Can she admit it now? Admit that, yes, she was in love with the man holding her? That, yes, all of this was for something. That she will be at his side no matter what, she will be there to support him, guide him, help him. Just be there for him, no matter what. She wrapped her own arms around his body, pulling him closer to her, close enough that she could feel his heartbeat.

"Thank you. Thank you for finding me."

"You're welcome."


End file.
